Silent Symphony
by LANIKI
Summary: House is captivated by an unusual young woman who challenges him and changes his life. HouseOC story Completed!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone. This story was written for a fan fiction contest and I think it came out pretty well. It's not very long, but it's been totally written, so I will update it frequently until you have the whole thing. This is House with a character outside of the show. Please enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

Chapter 1

House pulled up to the gas pump and waited until the attendant came to the window.

"Fill it up, regular." He told the young man, who nodded and began pumping the gas. This was when he was happy to be living in New Jersey. Say what you will about the state, it was at least civilized enough to pump your gas for you and at prices lower than its neighbors. Thank God for all the refineries in the state. As long as they weren't in his neighborhood.

While he waited for the tank to fill, his eyes roamed around. Even though it was dark out, the station was well-lit and he could see three burly young men in the corner. They seemed to be huddled around something. His curiosity was piqued and he wondered what was going on.

He almost let it go, as the attendant took his credit card and processed the sale. But then he saw more movement from the trio. But it wasn't them. It was a young woman who dashed out and started to run down the street. The guys followed and quickly caught up with her.

House knew he should just drive away and go home where Vicodin and scotch waited for him, but that damn curiosity got him again. The girl looked nervous and scared. Also, there were three of them and one of her. He didn't like those odds. He pulled slowly away from the pump and drove towards the group.

As he pulled closer, he could see that the guys were hassling the girl. She wasn't saying anything to them, she wasn't even screaming, but she looked terrified. So why not scream and alert someone? Curiosity again.

"Hey," he called out to the guys. "You'd better leave her alone."

"What's it to you, old man?" Bully Number 1 asked.

"To me, nothing. But it might mean something to the cops. The attendant saw you and he just called them. They'll be here any minute."

The trio looked at each other, nervousness in their eyes.

"Let's get out of here." Number 1 said to his companions. They took off down the road as quickly as they could while trying not to look like they were running.

House watched them go, then turned back to the young woman. She really was very young, not much more than a girl. She looked at him, but didn't say anything. She also didn't move from where she was.

At first she looked like no more than a teenager, but something in her eyes said she was a little older, though not by much. She had long brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were a soft grey. She was wearing jeans that were a little too loose and a bulky sweatshirt. From her attire, it was hard to tell her build, but she certainly wasn't fat and she was fairly tall as well.

"It's okay," he told her, "They're gone."

She nodded and slowly started moving away from the wall. She approached him cautiously, then just stared at him.

"Not that I care," he said, "But some people feel the need to thank another person for helping them out of a situation like that."

She nodded.

"Okay, if you don't want to, that's cool. See you around." He started to pull away, but something bothered him about her. Damn that curiosity!

"You shouldn't be out here alone at night. You need to go home."

She nodded.

"Do you have a car?"

She shook her head.

Something occurred to him just then. "Can you hear?"

She shook her head.

"But you can read my lips, right?"

She nodded.

Damn, he thought. She was deaf.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

House limped into his apartment followed by the girl. Why, oh, why did he bring her home with him? He had to be crazy. She would probably murder him during the night and steal all his stuff. Oh, well, no great loss.

But she had looked so sad and scared. Not that it really mattered to him, but if something happened to her, well, it wouldn't be his fault, but still… Sometimes that doctor thing nagged at him. Or maybe it was Wilson's voice in his head. Either way, she was here.

He started heading for the kitchen, calling out, "Are you hungry…" then he stopped. "Damn!" he muttered. If he didn't look at her when he talked, she wouldn't know what he was saying.

He turned around and looked straight at her. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded.

"Come on," he inclined his head towards the kitchen. "There's not much in the fridge, but probably some bread and peanut butter anyway."

She followed him, looking around as she did. When her gaze came back to him, he said, "Sit down."

She sat at the table and he brought over a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. The bread was a little stale, but not too bad. He pulled out a knife as well and gave it to her.

"Go ahead, help yourself."

She did a little movement that involved bending her head down quickly and up again while placing her hand under her breast, then looking at him.

"What does that mean?" he asked her.

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a notebook and a pen. She quickly wrote **thank you.**

"Okay. You're welcome. That notebook must come in handy. Guess when you talk too much, you don't get a sore throat, you get writer's cramp."

She smiled, and then reached for the bread and peanut butter. He waited until she pushed it towards him and had taken her first bite before he asked, "What's your name?"

She swallowed her bite of sandwich and picked up the pen again. **AMY**

"Amy, huh? How old are you, Amy?"

She held up two fingers on one hand, then three fingers on the other.

"You're five?"

She tilted her head and gave him a look. Then she held up the two fingers again, followed by the three fingers.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You're twenty-three., right?"

She nodded and continued eating.

"So do you have a home?"

She shook her head.

"A place to live?"

She shook her head, again.

He sighed. How did he get himself into this?

"Alright, look, you can stay here tonight only. Tomorrow, you're out. Find yourself a job and a place to live. Unless you want to be the plaything of guys like those tonight. Do you?" She shook her head. "So you get a job, okay?" She nodded.

He watched her as she ate. She was really very pretty. Her clothes were too baggy, but he could tell she was slim under them. Maybe some curves, hard to see that. She wore no makeup, but she didn't need any. Her skin was clear and creamy with a light sprinkling of freckles. Her eyelashes were long and full and her lips were naturally rosy. She looked like she could use a shower and a change of clothes, but her face and hands were clean. Public restrooms probably.

Watching her, he thought again, she's really pretty, then, down boy! She's twenty-five years younger than you.

When she finished eating, he said, "If you want to take a shower, you can."

She nodded. He showed her where the bathroom was and handed her a towel and washcloth.

When she came out twenty minutes later, her hair was wet and hanging down her back. She had changed into a large t-shirt and clean jeans. He gave her a pillow, sheet and blanket and told her she could make up the sofa for a bed. She did the little thank you motion again.

He went into his bedroom with his glass of scotch and got into bed. He picked up the book he had on the nightstand and began reading, trying not to think of the young woman sleeping on his sofa.

The next morning, she was awake before him and was sitting on the sofa when he entered the living room. She had pulled a book from his bookcase and was reading. She didn't look up until he got close to her. She smiled at him.

"Do you drink coffee?"

She nodded.

"Do you know how to make it?"

She nodded again.

"Good, the coffeemaker's in the kitchen." He said as he sat on the sofa and reached for the remote. She looked at him in confusion, then shrugged and went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he could smell coffee brewing. Before long, she was beside him with a steaming mug in her hand. She looked at him with a question in her eyes and indicated the coffee.

"That's fine, I take it black." He took the cup from her and watched as she returned to the kitchen. Soon she was beside him on the sofa, with a mug in her own hand. She stared at the cartoons on the TV for a few moments, and then picked up the book again.

He started to speak, and then realizing she wasn't looking at him, touched her arm lightly. She looked at him.

"You don't like Spongebob?"

She shrugged, and reaching for her notebook, wrote **CAN'T HEAR IT. CARTOONS DON'T HAVE LIPS TO READ.**

As she returned to the book, he thought about that, and then picking up the remote again, turned on the captioning feature. He touched her arm again and pointed to the TV when she looked at him.

When she saw the words on the screen, she smiled and looked back at him, before returning her gaze to the show.

"No one should miss out on Spongebob." House said, even though she was watching the TV, not him.

When the show was over, he got up and left the room to shower and dress. He came out a little later to find her still watching the TV, smiling and laughing. After Spongebob, Fairly Odd Parents had come on. He touched her shoulder. She looked up at him and he said, "Time to go."

She nodded, rose and picked up her backpack. She stuffed her notebook inside and pulled on her hoodie. He opened the door and they stepped outside.

"Is there somewhere I can take you?"

She shrugged, and then shook her head.

"Well, okay, then, good luck."

She nodded, did the thank you motion again, and started walking down the street.

He watched her walk for a few moments, then got into his car and drove to work.

Well, he thought, I'll never see her again. Sometimes you can be more wrong than you'll ever know.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

One week later…

House had just settled at the piano with a glass of scotch when his telephone rang. As usual, he ignored it. After three rings, the answering machine clicked on.

"You have reached a disconnected number. If you still want to leave a message, you're a moron." BEEP

"Uh, hello, this is Officer Malone of the Princeton Police. I am trying to reach Doctor Gregory House. If you can, please call us at 555-"

"Damn." House muttered as he picked up the phone. "This is House."

"Doctor Gregory House?"

"Yes, what's the problem?"

"Do you know a young woman by the name of Amy Matthews?"

A cold chill ran through him. "Why?"

"Do you know her, Doctor House?"

"Yes. What happened to her?"

"She's here at the station. She was caught stealing."

House was shocked. She hadn't seemed like a thief to him. But then, what did he really know about her?

"So she's been arrested?" he asked.

"Actually, no. She was stealing food. The shopkeeper called the police, but when he realized she was deaf, he decided not to press charges."

"Then what's the problem?"

"If she doesn't have an address, she'll be arrested for vagrancy. She gave us your name and address and claimed she was staying with you. Is this true?"

"What if it's not?"

"She'll be under arrest and spend the night in jail."

He thought about the lovely young woman with the porcelain skin and sad eyes. It wasn't his problem, but he knew he'd never sleep thinking about her spending the night in jail.

"Yes," he said, "She lives here."

'I can send her over there in a squad car if that's okay."

"Sure, why not?"

Fifteen minutes later, he answered a knock to see two officers standing there with Amy in between them. She looked more bedraggled than she had the week before and, if possible, as if she had lost more weight. She had a scared and nervous look on her face.

House let her in and the police left. He watched her as she sat down quickly, pulled out her notebook and began writing furiously. She showed him the notebook where she had written **Thank you. When the police leave, I'll go.**

"No, you won't. If they catch you out on the street, you'll be arrested."

**Don't worry, I'll be fine.**

"But I won't. They put you in my care. They pick you up again, they get me too. I don't need any more problems with the cops. You're staying here."

She looked at him nervously.

"It's okay." He sat down next to her. "Tell me what happened to you."

She motioned with her notebook.

"Go ahead, write it out. You want some water?"

She nodded and began writing. When he returned, she handed him the notebook.

I looked everywhere for a job. No one would hire me. Said they needed someone who could hear. One guy said he didn't want a dummy working for him. I can't hear, but I'm not stupid!

"That remains to be seen. Okay, you said your parents are dead. Did you live in a foster home?

Yes.

"But you're twenty-three. What did you do since then?"

She started writing. **I worked for a lady and took care of her. But then she died.**

"Didn't you save any money?"

She shook her head.

"How much did she pay you?"

$20 and room and board.

"Twenty dollars an hour?"

She shook her head.

"A day?"

She shook it again.

"A week?" He was incredulous as she nodded.

"What did you do for her?" 

Cleaned the house, did the laundry, cooked, helped her – she was in a wheelchair.

"You were a cook, housekeeper and nurse for twenty dollars a week? The guy is right, you are a dummy."

She underlined the words 'room and board' in her book.

"Yeah, yeah, a crummy room in her house and food that you cooked isn't worth what you did for her. She took advantage of you."

When he finished talking, she started writing.

No, she was good to me. She bought me clothes and stuff. She was going to leave me money when she died, she told me so. But then her son came…

"What happened when her son came?"

He made me leave. He said I couldn't have anything. But he wanted me to… 

She stopped writing and looked at him.

"Yeah, I think I know what he wanted you to do." Bastard, he thought. "Okay, did you mind cleaning the house?"

She shook her head.

"Lots of people need someone to clean. You can probably make some money doing that. And did you say you can cook?"

She nodded.

"Good, cook and clean for me and you can stay here." He thought for a moment. "And I'll pay you. More than twenty dollars a week."

She shook her head and started making motions.

"Shut up." He said, thinking of the irony of telling a girl who can't talk to shut up.

She wrote: y**ou don't have to do this for me. I can find my own job.**

"Obviously you can't. And unfortunately I do. In a moment of insanity, I said I'd be responsible for you. So now if you get in trouble, I get in trouble. I don't need any more problems with the police."

She started motioning with her hands.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing."

She motioned again.

"I said it's fine. Do you want something to eat?"

She nodded. He limped into the kitchen with her following him. He pulled a slice of cold pizza from the box containing his partially eaten dinner. She took it eagerly and ate it quickly.

"How long since you've had something to eat?"

She shrugged.

"Is that why you were stealing food tonight?"

She nodded. He closed his eyes briefly, and then gave her another slice of pizza.

"That's all that's left, sorry. There's peanut butter if you're still hungry."

She shook her head as she wolfed it down.

"By the way," he asked her. "How did you know my name? I never told you."

She wrote **I saw it on your mail on the table**.

She was pretty bright, he realized. She could probably do a lot better than just cleaning houses. But people's perceptions of the abilities of a handicapped person were sometimes hard to change. He'd have to think about that.

As she finished with the pizza and disposed of the box, he told her, "Okay, tomorrow you can start taking care of this place and I'll see what I can do for you."

She went to the refrigerator and opened it, motioning inside.

"I know, there's no food. I'll take you grocery shopping when I get home from work. Buy enough for at least a week and we'll take it from there."

She considered for a minute, and then wrote in her book, **do you want breakfast, lunch and dinner?**

"No, just breakfast and dinner. I eat lunch at work." And let Wilson buy it for me, he thought.

She nodded, and then moved her hands over her arms.

"You want to take a shower?"

She nodded.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll get the pillow and blankets for the sofa."

The next day he took her to the grocery store and waited by the little café in the front drinking coffee while she shopped. He had told her that he ate almost everything and liked meat, then left her to do it herself.

A half an hour later, she fond him and he went to the checkout with her to pay for the groceries. Back at his apartment, she put the food away while he watched TV and had a drink. As he did, he looked around and saw that the place looked spotless. All the clutter had been removed – where, he wondered – and everything was dust free and shining. It even smelled nice.

Twenty minutes later, she motioned him to the kitchen. On the table was a large bowl containing stir-fried shrimp mixed with broccoli, snow peas, carrots, mushrooms and bean sprouts. Beside it was a large bowl of rice. House eyed it suspiciously.

"Looks like a lot of rabbit food, not much for the carnivores."

She smiled and began filling his plate. He took it from her, lifted his fork and tasted the food. The shrimp was plump and not overcooked and was flavored with a delicate balance of soy and teriyaki sauce. There were sesame seeds mixed in with the sauce and the vegetables were crisp and delicious. Even the rice was fluffy, with a delicate flavor he couldn't quite identify, but liked nonetheless.

She was writing in her book**. I wanted to prepare something quick for tonight. Stir-Fry is quick and easy. Tomorrow, I'll do something that takes longer.**

"Okay." He told her, thinking that if everything she cooked tasted like this, he was in for some good eating.

Over the next two weeks, he enjoyed some of the best food he had ever eaten. Breakfasts consisted of French toast, apple pancakes, omelets and breakfast casseroles rich with bacon, sausage and cheese, among other things.

For dinner, she prepared traditional fare such as meatloaf, roast beef, fried chicken, and baked ham, as well as the more non-traditional items such as chicken cacciatore, veal parmigiana, shrimp scampi and fettuccine alfredo. One evening, she prepared polish sausage with potato pancakes, sauerkraut and pierogies.

As he ate everything with relish, he asked her, "How did you learn how to cook like this?"

She motioned something.

"You read it? You mean you read cookbooks?"

She nodded.

"Why aren't you fat? You're eating everything I'm eating."

She shrugged.

He watched her as she ate her own dinner. He was correct when he said that she wasn't fat, however, now that she was eating right, she had filled out a little. Her face had lost that gaunt look and the circles under her eyes had disappeared. She really was very lovely. Too bad, he told himself, that she's so young.

Unfortunately, part of him wasn't listening.

A few days after Amy moved in, Wilson came over to watch wrestling with House. He was surprised to see the young woman who smiled at him when House introduced her. When she went into the kitchen, Wilson immediately started questioning House.

"Who is she? Why is she here? What's going on?"

"She's my Aunt Matilda. Can't you see the resemblance? She and Uncle Bernie are at outs, so she's staying for a while. Nice to have family around, don't you think?"

"House."

"She's the maid. And cook."

"All of a sudden, you need a live-in maid? You? The man who would rather move to a new apartment than clean the one he's in?"

"See, that's the beauty of this. I don't have to clean and I don't have to move."

"House, why is she here? What's going on?"

House sighed. He knew Wilson wouldn't let it alone until he got an explanation. "She was …alone, on the street."

"So you just took her in?" 

"No, of course not. I let her stay one night. Then she told the cops that she lived here."

"And…?"

"I kind of went along with it." At Wilson's incredulous expression, he quickly added, "They were going to put her in jail. She's deaf , for god's sake. I just couldn't…"

"Oh my god. That's it."

"What?"

"The world has ended."

"What are you blabbering about?"

"Gregory House has done something out of the kindness of his heart. A heart, by the way, that most people assumed did not exist and certainly did not contain any human kindness. So, life as we know it, is over. The four horsemen of the apocalypse will be arriving shortly."

"Since I don't believe in your biblical references and I don't appreciate your feeble attempts at humor, I'm choosing to ignore you." House told him.

At that moment, Amy came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray. On it were sandwiches, chicken wings and other snacks. She put it down on the table, smiled at the men and left again. Wilson picked up one of the wings and moaned when he tasted it.

"This is terrific." He told House.

"See what I mean? She cooks, she's great to look at and she doesn't talk. The perfect woman."

Wilson noticed the look on House's face. "Are you sleeping with her/"

"No!" House said a little too quickly.

"You are!"

"I'm not. She's twenty-five years younger than me. I'm not."

Wilson kept looking at him. "But you want to."

"Twenty-five years!"

Wilson just shook his head. "Man, are you in trouble."

House glared at him, but deep down, he knew his friend was right. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

House entered Cuddy's office without knocking. The Dean of Medicine was hunched over her computer working on some financial spreadsheets.

"No time right now, House. Tell me what you want to do so that I can turn you down and you can get out of here." She said without looking up at him.

He hesitated. He hated asking anyone for a favor, but she was the only one he knew that could help.

"Do you know anyone who could use a good house cleaner?"

Her head shot up instantly. "Why? Do you know someone? Someone good?"

He sensed that he had just gained the upper hand in this situation. "Well, it's possible…"

"How did you know that my girl moved away?" She eyed him suspiciously, and then gave it up. "Never mind how. I am at the end of my rope. I tried some agencies, but the people they sent were awful. So, who do you know?"

"She's in high demand, but she had a former client recently die. I might be able to put in a good word for you."

She knew she wouldn't get anything from without giving as well. "What do you want?"

"A week off clinic."

"I don't even know if she's any good. An hour off clinic."

"If I get her to come so that you can try her out, I get two hours. If you hire her, I get a week."

She thought about it. She hated giving in to him, but the state of her home was making her desperate. "Does she do laundry? And windows?"

"Yep."

"Okay, it's a deal."

"When do you want her?"

"What day does she have free? "

House realized he better play this right if he wanted to get his bonus. "I'll ask her and let you know. Oh, and one other thing you should probably know, in case it matters."

"What?"

"She's deaf."

"Why should that matter? She doesn't have to hear the dirt, just clean it."

He smiled. He knew Cuddy would feel that way; he just wanted to be sure.

Amy began cleaning Cuddy's house and Cuddy was thrilled. He house had never sparkled so much. She soon found out that House had been lying, that Amy did not have a lot of clients, but she was so happy to have the girl working for her, that she decided to let him have his win. But she did recommend Amy to some of her friends, so the girl was soon working three days a week, cleaning for six or seven career women who didn't have the time to do it themselves. That still left her time to take care of House's apartment and cook for him each day.

She would wake early each morning and make sure his coffee was ready as well as a hot breakfast. He would leave for the hospital with a fresh muffin or some home-baked coffee cake in his backpack to enjoy with his work cup of coffee.

He would arrive home each day to the smells of something wonderful in the kitchen. They would eat together, without much conversation. It was hard for Amy to look at her food and at his face to follow conversation, so there was usually not much talking.

After dinner, sometimes they would watch TV. House bought a closed-captioning device so that Amy could enjoy the shows.

Wilson often visited so that he and House could enjoy sporting events and other shows. Amy was happy to serve dinner to Wilson as well and always prepared snacks for them. While they watched their program, she would sit and read, the show providing no distraction to her.

Sometimes, when they were alone, House would play the piano and Amy would read. Music was a mystery to her. Having been born deaf, she had no frame of reference for music. She could understand that words could be communicated by voice, even though she'd never heard them. But she couldn't understand what music was. It saddened House to realize this, since music had always been such an important part of his life.

One evening, she was sitting on the floor reading while he played. He had been doing some jazz pieces that he really liked and it frustrated him that she couldn't appreciate the music. He banged loudly on the keys with both hands.

Amy's head shot up and she looked towards him, a question on her face. He stared at her, and then asked, "Did you hear that?"

She shook her head, then touched the floor and shook her body.

"You felt it?" he thought about that. Deaf people could feel the vibration that music made. Many of them learned to dance by feeling the vibration. There might be a way to make her understand music after all.

From then on, when he was playing the piano, she sat on the floor leaning against the piano so that she could "feel" the music. It helped the connection between them grow even stronger.

And there was a connection. She very seldom had to use her notebook to communicate with him. Usually, the expression on her face, the tilt of her head or simple body language conveyed exactly what she wanted to say. House thought this was just normal common sense, but it was actually extraordinary in the way that he understood so much of her thoughts. She understood him too, even when he didn't say something.

When he realized that she could feel vibrations, he would often get her attention by banging his cane on the floor. She would usually turn and smile at him when he did that. Her smile lit up her face and gave him a little thrill inside.

They began to get to know each other better. Being House, he couldn't help doing a differential diagnosis.

"How old were you when your parents died?"

She held up ten fingers.

"And you were born deaf?"

She nodded.

"Either of your parents have hearing problems?" 

She shook her head.

"Anyone else in your family?"

She shrugged, then wrote, **didn't know anyone else in my family.**

"Hmmm." He said. "Probably not inherited, but could be congenital." He thought for a moment. "Either of your parents Danish?"

She shook her head and gave him a perplexed look.

"Jervell and Lange-Nielsen Syndrome causes deafness, but it's congenital to people of Danish descent. It's probably cytomegalovirus CMV, but it could just be an infection your mother got during pregnancy. Did she ever mention anything?"

She shook her head sadly.

"Right, you were only ten. A little young to discuss your mother's pregnancy. Were you ever tested to find out if could be reversed?"

She nodded and put her hand near the floor.

"Right, when you were a little girl. And they found it was irreversible?"

She nodded again, and then gave him a look.

"I know, I know, it doesn't really matter. I'm just curious that way."

She smiled at him.

"But you know that you can probably learn to speak?"

She shook her head and pointed to her ears.

"That doesn't mean anything. Children learn to talk by hearing their parents and others talk and copying it. Since deaf children can't hear, they can't copy. Since they can't copy, they can't speak. But they can learn to speak. Many of them do."

She considered this for a moment, then nodded and smiled at him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He found himself thinking about her at odd times throughout the day. He would be eating lunch and he would remember the dinner she had made the night before and the way they ate in companionable silence. He would hear a piece of music that would remind him of her and he wished he could share it with her. There would be a patient in the clinic with a long brown ponytail and he would think of her lovely hair.

But what made it uncomfortable was thinking about her at night in his bed. It was hard to sleep, knowing that she was sleeping in the next room. He knew that he was too old for her and that she would have no interest in a crippled jerk like him, but that didn't stop him from desiring her and imagining what it would be like to make love to her.

One evening, early in her stay with him, his leg was bothering him more than usual. Of course, he didn't say anything to her about it, but it was evident by the extra Vicodin he was popping and the strain on his face. She watched him for a while, and then sat beside him on the sofa. She put her hand gingerly on his leg. He looked at her, wondering what she was about.

She started moving her hand over it. He grabbed her wrist to stop her, but she just nodded her head.

"What are you doing?"

She moved her hands in the air.

"Do you know how to massage?"

She nodded her head vigorously.

"You've done it before?" She nodded again.

"Okay, give it a try."

She started moving her hands slowly over his leg. He knew it would be easier if he removed his trousers, but he was reluctant to do that. For one, he didn't want to show her the extent of his leg's deformity. For another, her touch was exciting him – right through the fabric. He didn't know what would happen if she was touching his bare skin.

After a bit, he began to relax and his leg loosened up a bit. It actually felt a little better. With the sort of pain he encountered, any relief, no matter how minor, was welcomed. As she removed her hands, she looked at him.

"Yeah, that helped. Thank you."

She smiled. He would remember her smile and the feel of her hands, even through the fabric for many days to come.

All of this was complicated even more when he came home from the hospital one day and didn't see her in the living room. He smelled good things from the kitchen and assumed that's where she was. But he really needed to go to the bathroom, so he decided to take care of business before greeting her.

He opened the bathroom door and saw Amy stepping out of the shower. Her eyes grew wide as she saw him there.

He said, "Oh, sorry!" and immediately shut the door. He hurriedly limped into his bedroom, but the image of her naked body was engraved into his head. Her breasts weren't large, but they were nicely round as were her hips. He groaned. What was he going to do now? He'd never be able to look at her without picturing her naked.

He waited twenty minutes before leaving his room. The bathroom door was wide open and the room was empty, so he did what he had intended earlier, then he made his way to the kitchen.

She was standing at the stove. He banged his cane on the floor and she turned around. She reached for her notebook where she had written **I'm sorry** in large letters. He shook his head.

"No, no, it was my fault. The door was closed, I should have thought before entering."

She handed him the notebook again. **I got home late and decided to start dinner first, and then take my shower. I didn't know you'd be home before I was done. I should have locked the door.**

"Amy, it's not your fault. You had every right to take a shower. Okay, you could have locked the door, but don't worry about it, it's okay."

She nodded, and then smiled slightly, but he could see a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks. Of course, she was embarrassed. He tried to make her forget about it, but every time he looked at her, he remembered the sight of her and he began to get aroused.

This was not good.

They often spent time in the evenings talking and getting to know each other. Although House said very little about his past, he asked her quite a lot about hers. One evening, the discussion went to her lack of friends, especially male friends.

Since she had gone right from the foster home to living and working for the older woman, she didn't have the opportunity to meet and date many guys. It still amazed him though that someone as lovely as she was did not have guys chasing her.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

She shrugged, and then wrote, **no one wanted me.**

"Were all the guys you ever met crazy or just blind?"

She smiled briefly, then pointed to her ears and shook her head.

"So? Who cares if you're deaf? A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman."

She smiled again and looked down.

"Wait a minute, are you saying that you've never had a boyfriend?"

She nodded.

"Never ever?"

She nodded again.

"Are you telling me that you've never had sex?"

With a wry expression on her face, she nodded once more.

"You're twenty-three and you're…a virgin?"

She shrugged.

"That's just amazing."

**Can I ask you something?**

"Sure."

**What's it like?**

"What's what like?" Although he was afraid he knew what she was asking.

**Sex.**

"Well, um, that's kind of hard to put into words. And it's different for a man and a woman." She just looked at him. "Have you even gotten close at all? Any heavy petting, French kisses, anything?"

She shook her head. **Is it wonderful?**

"It can be. With the right person. You know how it all works, right?"

She nodded.

"Then you just need to wait for the right person. You should, uh, make sure that the first time is with someone special. Someone who knows what he's doing and who you care about. That will be best for you."

He left the room then, unwilling to say anymore on the subject.

Later that night, as he lay in his bed, he thought about what they had discussed. Why did that seem to turn him on even more? What sort of primitive male urge was it that made him excited about the thought of being the first man to touch her?

Stop it, he told himself. He would not be the first man to touch her; he wouldn't touch her at all. But the thought of someone else touching her, of possessing all that loveliness made him want to roar. Okay, he was really going primitive here.

But he was really glad she didn't ask him to go into detail about it. He was getting a woody just thinking about her not having sex, explaining it would have been disastrous. For both of them.

He was sitting at the piano and she was reading as usual. But he kept seeing her look up at him, then back at her book when he caught her looking.

Finally, he stopped playing and limped over to her.

"Okay, what's on your mind?"

She gave him a look.

"Don't give me that. There's something. You keep sneaking peeks at me. Unless I have something disgusting on myself that I didn't notice, you obviously have something to say."

She bit her lower lip, and then put down the book. She picked up her notebook. **I wanted to ask you for a favor.**

"Go ahead."

**Would you do it with me?**

"What? Do what?" But he knew what she meant. He just hoped he was wrong. Or did he?

She bit her lip again and hesitated, then wrote **sex.**

He took a breath, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Although he wasn't sure what to say, another part of his body was saying YES!!!! He squirmed again, hoping to hide the evidence of his excitement. Hopefully, she was inexperienced enough to not notice.

"I, um, don't really think that's a good idea."

She gave him a look.

"For a lot of reasons. One, I'm a lot older than you."

She shrugged.

"It does matter. You should be with someone much younger than me. For another thing, you work for me. It's not right."

Another look.

"Okay, okay, that's weak, but you know what I mean."

She picked up the notebook. **You said it should be someone who knows what he's doing. Don't you?**

"Of course I do. I also said it should be someone you care about."

She reached out and touched his cheek.

"No, you don't. You just think so, because I'm the only man you know and I've helped you."

Her look was intense.

"It's true and you know it. I just can't. I'm sorry."

She nodded and wandered into the kitchen. He returned to the piano, but couldn't concentrate and decided to go to bed. He tossed and turned for over an hour. He couldn't stop thinking about her request. He was feeling so sexually frustrated, he knew he'd never sleep. He tried taking care of the matter himself, but that wasn't working either. Admit it, his body was telling him. There's only one way to finish this.

He got out of bed and hobbled into the living room. She was stretched out on the sofa. He thought she might be asleep, but then he heard a soft sound, like a sniffle. He turned on the lamp beside the sofa. She sat up quickly, looking at him questioningly. Shit, he thought, she'd been crying.

He sat down beside her. "About what you asked me earlier…"

She held up a hand to stop his words and quickly picked up the notebook. **It's okay. I understand. You don't want me either. I know that being deaf is repulsive to men.**

"Repulsive? You think you're repulsive?"

She nodded.

"You don't know repulsive." He stood up, pulled down his pajama pants and showed her the ugly scar on his right thigh. "Sweetheart, this is repulsive. You're beautiful."

She looked at the scar, and then reached out to touch it gently. Then she rose and put her arms around him.

He pulled back so that she could read his lips. "Amy, I'm an old crippled bastard. I can't promise you a future. If we do this, you have to know that."

She just shook her head and smiled.

"You may not care now, but you will later."

She shook her head again and put her head on his shoulder.

"Fuck it. You want this, you've got it." He took her hand and led her to his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Once they were in his bedroom, he turned on the light. If he talked to her, he wanted her to know what he was saying. He sat on the bed and pulled her down beside him. Then he put his hands on her face and caressed her cheek gently. Her large expressive eyes stared at him. He moved in closer and gently touched his lips to hers, then increased the pressure of the kiss.

Her arms looped around his neck as she responded to the kiss. His tongue darted out and demanded entry to her mouth. She was unsure, but little by little, she opened her lips and he plunged inside. The kiss was sweet and sexy, everything a kiss should be. She reveled in it, he just tasted and enjoyed.

He started moving his hands down he back, caressing, feeling every inch of her. His hands moved down to the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing and he reached underneath it to touch her smooth skin. It felt like heaven.

She was unsure where to put her hands, but she went on instinct and followed his lead, reaching under his shirt to touch his skin. He stopped his exploration of her to pull the shirt over his head, and then he reached for hers and did the same. He caught his breath at the sight of her lovely breasts. Not very big, but perfectly rounded and begging to be touched. He complied, reaching out a finger to caress the nipple. She took in a breath, then let it out slowly as he gently circled it and then bent down to kiss it. He slowly took the nipple into his mouth as she started to pant with excitement.

By this time, he was fully aroused, but he knew she would need more time to be ready for him. He moved his hand down to her panties and slowly eased them down her legs. Once they were disposed of, he reached down to lightly caress her. He took a finger and touched her sensitive area very gently. She began to squirm. He carefully inserted the finger, not too far, and then pulled it out again. She was starting to get wet. She was almost ready. He decided to help her the rest of the way along.

He removed his hand and took his lips off her breast. He began kissing down her body until her reached the soft hair at the apex. His tongue moved slowly down until he was able to touch her center. She arched off the bed as his tongue darted in and out. It didn't take long before she was exploding.

He held her as she came down from the orgasm. Once she had calmed down, he looked at her so that she could see his lips.

"Do you want the rest of it, or was that enough?"

Her eyes got wide, and then she nodded.

"You want more?" She nodded. "You're sure?" Another nod.

"You need to know that this may hurt a bit, at least at first. If you want me to stop, just pinch me and I'll stop. If anything feels painful or uncomfortable. If you're not enjoying this, there's no point, okay?" She nodded once more.

He reached into the drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a condom. He tore open the packet and covered himself. Then he moved on top of her. He started kissing her face, her neck, her shoulders. He positioned himself and slowly started to enter her, a little at a time, giving her time to get used to him. She stared at him as he moved slowly. As he kept moving he reached the barrier. He knew this would be painful for her. He pulled back a little, then in again. Finally, he surged forward and was buried to the hilt in her warm, tight softness.

Her eyes were wide and there was a look of hurt in them. He immediately tried to reassure her. "I know, sweetheart, I know, but it will be better now, please just wait, okay? Okay?"

She nodded. He tried not to move for a few seconds to let her get used to him. When she started to relax, he started to move, slowly at first, then building up speed as she responded to his movements. He increased the intensity of his movements then, and she instinctively moved with him. He pulled out a little, then back in several times, while she writhed in ecstasy. Before long, they were both building to their final climax. House gave one more surge and exploded, as Amy did the same.

House woke up feeling unusually good. At first, he wasn't sure why. His leg hurt as much as it did any morning after a long time without the Vicodin. And yet… Then he felt the warmth snuggled beside him and he remembered –Amy!

He turned his head and saw her lying beside him, her brown hair spread out on the pillow. Her hand rested lightly on his chest. He placed his over it and smiled. Hard to believe that she had been a virgin. But what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. The sex had been unbelievable. He was one lucky bastard.

Then he sobered. What was he doing sleeping with this young woman? He was old enough to be her father. How long before she realized that and found someone younger – and healthier – to sleep with? He sighed and looked at her again. She was truly lovely and he wasn't ready to let go of this yet.

That night was just the first of many. Amy began sleeping in his bed all the time and they usually made love. She was eager to learn, so he taught her different positions. She was shy at first, but gradually she became bolder and started to initiate things. For instance, one evening, while he was playing the piano, he noticed that she was strangely absent from the room.

He was absorbed in the music and didn't realize she had returned and was standing beside him. She was wearing one of his t-shirts; it was long and reached the top of her thighs. He looked at her and she smiled at him. She reached out and touched his hair, smoothing it with her hands. Then she moved her hands down to his shoulders and gently massaged them. He closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of her hands on him. Then, draping her right arm across his shoulder, she sat down beside him on the bench. With her left hand, she lightly caressed his leg, and then moved her hand up and over until she was touching the ever growing bulge through his trousers.

He stopped playing to sit back and enjoy the sensations. She reached down to his zipper, opened it and pushed down his boxers. Then she lowered her head to his lap and took him into her mouth. He groaned with pleasure. She licked and sucked until he was rock hard. She gave him a condom, which he quickly put on, and then she moved and positioned herself on his lap, being careful to keep her weight off his bad leg. She rose and then lowered herself onto his erection. He put his arms around her waist, holding onto her and she rode him. Her butt touched the piano keys every time she rocked back and he could hear their tinkling, warning him that she was coming down again. Before long, they were both building and in seconds, both let go in massive orgasms.

Sex like that was becoming the norm for House. He was enjoying himself immensely, but was still wondering why this beautiful young woman was doing all these wonderful things with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Amy was cleaning up the apartment one day and accidently knocked over a large envelope that was on the desk. As she picked it up, she noticed that it held two tickets to a dinner dance. She looked at it for a few moments, and then placed it back on the desk.

Later that day, when House arrived home, she held out the envelope to him with a question in her eyes.

"That's nothing, just the hospital fundraiser. Cuddy forced all of the doctors to buy tickets. You can just throw it out."

She continued to stare at him.

"What?" he asked, then saw her look. "Cuddy does these a couple times a year. They're boring as hell. No one really wants to go."

Her gaze didn't waver.

"Leave it go, Amy. I'm not going."

She sighed and nodded, then went into the kitchen. He retreated to the bedroom to get changed. They ate dinner, as usual, in silence and afterwards, she settled with her book while he played the piano.

After a while, he stopped playing and looked at her. Something was eating at him and he decided he'd better go for it. He banged the keys to get her attention. When she looked at him, he said, "Would you like to go to the fundraiser with me?"

Her eyes got wide and she started to smile, then other thoughts occurred to her. Slowly, she shook her head and pointed to her clothes.

"I'll take care of that, Cinderella. You can get whatever you need."

Her face lit up with excitement. She nodded and jumped up, running to him and putting her arms around his neck and kissing him.

He laughed. "Well, if I knew I was going to get this response, I would have asked you earlier."

House found Cuddy in her office (of course). She rolled her eyes when she saw him.

"What now?" she asked him.

"Amy's not happy. She may want to quit."

Cuddy sat up straighter. "What do you mean she's unhappy? What's wrong? Does she want more money? Better lunch when she's there? Tell me, because I cannot lose her, she's the best house cleaner I have ever had."

"Well," he said, trying to choose his words carefully, "More money wouldn't be bad. But I think she feels like she's not really bonding with her clients. You know she worked for one lady for five years."

"What does she need, House? Just tell me and I will do whatever it takes to keep her happy."

"I don't know, maybe a girls' day out – you know shopping, hairdressers, bashing men – all those thing you girls love to do."

Cuddy was suspicious. "Is there anything in particular you want us to shop for?"

"Well, since you're going to be out…she needs a dress."

"A dress?"

"Yeah, I asked her to the fundraiser. She needs a dress."

Cuddy smiled. "Tell her I'll pick her up at ten on Saturday. And you could have just asked, I'd be happy to help Amy."

'Yeah, but what fun is that?"

That Saturday, Cuddy and Amy happily explored the mall. House had handed her $500 before they left and snarkily said, "I want the change!" but then while Amy wasn't looking told Cuddy, "Spend what you need to. If you need more money, I'll make it up."

Cuddy was amazed, but took him at his word. She took Amy to some of the high end stores and due to Amy's youth and lovely figure was able to help her find the perfect dress in a relatively short time. They decided to stop for lunch before tackling shoes and accessories.

They stopped at a little bistro in the mall and after the waiter had taken their orders, Cuddy sat back and looked ant the lovely young woman, wondering about the best way to phrase her question.

"So, you're going to the fundraiser with House."

Amy nodded happily.

"I'm surprised that he asked you. Usually he doesn't even bother with these events, unless Wilson or I force him."

Amy shrugged.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Amy nodded.

"Are you two…seeing each other?"

Amy smiled and nodded. Her response prompted Cuddy to ask, "Are you sleeping together?"

The younger woman looked down briefly, and then back up as she nodded.

"Oh, my god, you're in love with him, aren't you?" 

Amy just smiled.

"Wow. You're a brave girl. Gregory House is …an interesting man. But he's not an easy one. You do realize that?"

She nodded.

"I wish you luck. I have a feeling you're going to need it." Cuddy thought about how lovely Amy looked in the dress they had selected. She was anxious to see House's reaction to it, so she said, "I have an idea."

Amy tilted her head and looked at her.

"The party is next Saturday. How about if I make an appointment for you at my favorite salon? I'm going then anyway. Then, you come back to my house and get ready there. House can pick you up and you can make an entrance."

Amy considered that for a few moments, then smiled and nodded.

"Great. We'll get your hair done, a manicure and pedicure, facial and get make-up done."

Amy's excited smile told her that she liked the idea.

After lunch, they completed the shopping with shoes, stockings, jewelry and even underwear. Then they brought it all back to Cuddy's house in preparation for the following week.

House was watching Amy as she moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner. She was very graceful. She could have been a dancer, he thought, except for not being able to hear music. Then he amended his thoughts. Deaf people were able to learn to dance. They responded to the vibration of the music.

After dinner was over, he pulled her into the living room. He selected a CD and put it on the stereo, turning the bass up as far as he could with out getting the neighbors to complain.

Looking into her eyes, he mouthed, "You're going to learn to dance."

She shook her head and backed away, but he took her arm and said, "No arguments from you. You can do this."

He gave her a basic overview of the steps, and then told her to move along with the beat that she felt through her feet. She did as he said, moving awkwardly at first, and then, as she felt the vibrations, more confidently.

They practiced every night. House couldn't do much dancing, so he enlisted Wilson's help for the more upbeat moves. By the time Saturday arrived, she could dance as well as most people he knew.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

House had grumbled when Cuddy told him that he would have to pick Amy up at her house. Why go to all that trouble? It was just a stupid fundraiser. But Cuddy had been adamant and Amy had given him a pleading look, so he ultimately agreed.

However, he wasn't happy about it, so he wasn't in the best mood when he got there. Cuddy had also insisted that he come in to get her, not just beep the horn and wait in the car. House had complained again – after all, he'd told her, he was a cripple! Why should he have to do all that extra walking? But neither woman would listen to him, so he just kept grumbling and did what they asked.

When Cuddy opened the door, she was already dresses in her black sequined cocktail dress. She smiled as she let him in.

"Amy will be right down. She's almost done."

"You mean she's not ready yet? She spent the whole goddamned day with you. What were you two doing?"

"Did you miss your maid?"

"No, I just don't understand why it takes you women so long to dress for a party. After all it's…"

He broke off as he caught sight of Amy walking down the stairs. Even though he had seen her naked, he wasn't prepared for her dressed up. Her hair was loose, with soft curls falling in a cascade down her back, held in place by shimmery combs. There were glittery earrings in a waterfall design in her ears. She was wearing make-up, not overdone, but enough to highlight her beautiful grey eyes and high cheekbones.

Her dress was a deep midnight blue color, cut low in front, and with a halter-top tied behind her neck and showing cleavage. It was a very snug fitting dress showing all the curves on her lovely body. The hem skimmed her mid-thigh and her long legs were covered with silky stockings and she had shiny silver sandals on her feet. The stiletto heels made her legs look even longer than they usually were. When she turned around, he saw the seams on the back of the stockings and the back of the dress, which dipped down to base of her spine.

She was smiling at him tentatively, waiting for some response. But he was speechless. He knew that she was beautiful, but he had never seen her look like this. She was breathtaking.

He knew she was expecting his reaction, so finally he found enough saliva in his mouth to say, "You look great."

"Just great?" Cuddy said. "That's all you can say? She's gorgeous!"

"Yeah, she is." He muttered. He held out his arm and she took it smiling at him as she did. Together, they left the house and got into his car.

The ballroom where the fundraiser was held had been turned into a wonderland with twinkling lights everywhere and shimmering panels of glittering material. Everyone exclaimed about how beautiful it was. It gave House a headache. But as he walked in the room with Amy on his arm, he could feel all eyes move from the decorations to the beautiful woman beside him. Most were probably wondering how the hell he managed to snag a woman that looked like that. Suffer, he thought.

The first one to approach him, of course, was Wilson. He had brought a radiologist from the hospital as his date and he introduced her to House and Amy. Even though his date was very attractive, his eyes bugged out at the sight of Amy.

Soon they were joined by House's team. Foreman and Chase had each brought nurses as their dates. Cameron was accompanied by an old college friend who was now a doctor in Pediatrics at PPTH, Dr. Jared Reynolds. They all stared at Amy, clearly amazed that House could score such a beautiful girl.

As he introduced her, he explained that she was deaf and that she could read their lips as long as they looked at her when they spoke. Each of them did just that as they greeted her. But when Jared Reynolds greeted her, he moved his hands as well. Amy smiled when he did and began moving her hands in response.

House watched them, perplexed at first, then realizing, said to the young doctor, "You know sign language?"

"Yes," he responded. "My sister is deaf. I learned it about the same time I learned to talk."

Amy was enthusiastically responding to him with movements of her hands. House was not happy.

"What are you saying to her?"

"Just asking her about herself."

House watched their "conversation" and became more and more frustrated. Here was a young, good-looking guy who could communicate with her on another level. Amy seemed really happy too. He had to do something about this.

"Come on," he said to Amy, pulling her away from the young doctor. "We have to find our table for dinner."

When the dancing portion of the evening began, Amy found that she did not lack for partners. Even though he had taught her how, House wasn't able to dance more than one or two slow dances, but other guys were happy to take up the slack. He was okay with it, until Jared Reynolds approached her. She seemed to be enjoying dancing with him a little too much.

He was staring at the young couple when Wilson joined him in watching them.

"My God, she really looks …beautiful tonight." Wilson noted.

"Hot." House said, "She looks hot."

"Yeah. I mean, I've seen her at your place and she's pretty, but tonight…wow!"

"I know." House said morosely.

Wilson looked at him. "What's wrong? Why are you…oh my God, you're sleeping with her!"

House kept his eyes on the dance floor. Amy turned her head and seeing him, smiled. He smiled quickly, then, realizing Wilson was beside him, stopped.

"Oh, you've got it bad!" Wilson smirked.

House glowered at him. "I don't have anything."

"Well, obviously, you have her."

"No, I don't."

"Are you going to try to tell me that you're not sleeping with her?"

"Nope. I'm sleeping with her."

"Well, then…"

House gave him a withering look. "She's twenty-three. How long do you think it will be before she starts looking for someone her own age?"

"Not necessarily."

"You're an idiot if you think so. I'll screw the hot young thing until she's no longer interested. Which shouldn't be long."

House limped to the bar to get a refill on his drink. Wilson watched him go, shaking his head sadly as he did. Then he looked at the dance floor again and saw that Amy was watching him as well. The look in her eyes told Wilson everything he needed to know.

As the party winded down and people began to leave, House signaled to Amy. She walked over to him and he asked her, "Are you ready to leave?"

Smiling, she nodded.

In the car, driving home, he kept glancing at her. Her long, lovely legs were crossed. She had her hand on his leg, gently caressing him as he drove. He thought of watching her in the arms of other men all evening and an unreasonable jealousy overtook him. Suddenly he wanted her more than he had ever wanted her before. He drove a little faster to get home sooner.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

They pulled up in front of his apartment and he stopped the car. She unbuckled her seat belt and started to open the door. He reached out and touched her arm. When she turned, he said, "Stay there."

He got out and moved around to her side. When he got there, he opened the car door and held out his hand. She took it and rose from the seat. He closed he door and then pinned her against it. He bent down and touched his lips to hers. Hers parted and he explored her mouth with his tongue. He could have gone on kissing her like that for hours, but another part of his anatomy was begging for more than kissing,

He broke the kiss, and gazed into her eyes, then took her hand and led her to the door. He fumbled trying to get the key in the lock. It was hard to concentrate when all the blood from your brain was much lower in your body.

When they finally made it inside, he pushed her back against the closed door and resumed kissing her. His hands started roaming over her body, down her back and up the sides. He reached inside of her dress, and groaned when he realized she was not wearing a bra. He untied the halter and released her breasts. He bent down to kiss it and then took it into his mouth.

Meanwhile, his hands reached under her skirt and found that the stockings she wore were not panty hose; they ended at the top of her thighs. He fingered the tiny bikini panties she was wearing and pulled them down. She raised each foot and worked them off. He was even more excited thinking about her in his arms with the sexy dress and no underwear.

Knowing he couldn't hold back any longer, he unzipped his trousers and pushed them down with his boxers. He pulled up her skirt and plunged inside. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pumped into her as tiny whimpers came from her throat. She was so hot and wet; it didn't take long for him to feel his climax building. He pushed harder and felt hers starting. In seconds, they both exploded.

She slid boneless from his embrace and down to the floor. Suddenly, he realized the pressure that position had put on his leg, but damn, was it worth it!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He couldn't sleep. After that wild sex, he should have been exhausted and fallen asleep immediately. But his mind kept him awake. He thought about his first sight of her that evening. He had desired her almost from the first, but he hadn't realized how truly beautiful she was until tonight. No wonder every man at the fundraiser couldn't take his eyes off her.

And that was also bothering him. Handsome, young, able-bodied men were interested in her. How long before she abandoned him for one of them? Why would she want to stay with a jerk like him when she could be with someone who wasn't screwed up?

Amy cuddled closer to him. He tightened the arm that he had around her, realizing that he would have to let her go sooner or later. It may as well be sooner – the pain might be easier to bear that way. Yeah, right. Who was he kidding?

In the days that followed, House stayed at the hospital later than usual or stopped off at a bar on the way home. She always had dinner ready for him when he came home, no matter how late. She never complained to him, though she wondered what was happening. Once he was home, he stayed up late watching TV or playing the piano, waiting until she was asleep to go to bed.

Amy was a patient person, but she was worried about his behavior. Had she done something wrong? Why didn't he want to spend time with her or make love to her? After a few weeks of it, she got up the courage to confront him about it.

When he finally got home, she handed him her notebook where she had written, **Please tell me what is wrong. Are you mad at me? Why don't you want to sleep with me anymore?**

He knew this would come. He had wondered when she would confront him and why it had taken her so long. He had to phrase it just right.

"How long did you think this would last?"

She looked at him, perplexed.

"Come on, you had to know there was no future for us."

She made a motion with her hands.

"I don't understand what you're saying." He told her, even though he did.

She furiously wrote in her notebook in large letters **I LOVE YOU!**

"No, you don't. You just think you do because I'm the first man you slept with."

She pointed to the book again.

"You haven't known any guys except me. You've never even dated. If you spent any time with other guys, you'd realize that what you think you feel for me is just infatuation.

She looked murderous at him as she wrote, **don't you dare discount my feelings!**

"You don't even know what your feelings are. And you don't know mine."

**You don't love me? Why did you sleep with me?**

"You're hot and you wanted me to. Who was I to refuse an offer like that?"

She stared at him for a few moments, then turned and ran into the bedroom. He felt a little guilty about what he'd said, but it had to be done. He sat down at the piano and was just finishing a song when she came out of the bedroom. She had her jacket on and her backpack on her shoulder. She was carrying a shopping bag that held the other clothes she had gotten since she'd started working and making her own money.

He watched her head to the door and immediately got up to limp to her. She was opening the door, when he grabbed her arm. She glared at him.

"I didn't say you had to leave. You can stay."

She shook her head and went out the door. He tried to follow her, but he had left his cane by the piano and he couldn't go as fast as her. He hobbled to the outside door to see her hailing a taxi and getting in when it stopped.

Damn, he thought.

She knew that she had to tell the cab driver where to go. Thinking quickly, she pulled out one the cards that she kept in her purse with the addresses of her clients and handed it to him. She only prayed that this client was at home.

When the taxi pulled up to the house, she paid him and went to the door. She knocked and seconds later, it was answered.

Cuddy was surprised to see Amy there at this time of night. But then she saw her red-rimmed eyes and thought, damn you, House.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Cuddy walked into House's office the next morning. He was sitting at his desk, staring out the window.

"I'm not doing clinic and you can't make me." He snarled.

"That's not why I'm here." She walked over and stood in front of him. "You know, there are times when I almost like you. But then there are others, like now, when I realize what a son of a bitch you really are."

"That's really not the way to get me to do anything. Sex and food are your best bets."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "In case you were even the least bit concerned, Amy is staying with me."

She saw a flicker of something in his eyes – was it relief? – then it was gone.

"Not my problem. She's a grown woman; she can go anywhere she likes."

"It's your problem when you threw her out!"

"I didn't throw her out."

"No, you just told her that you didn't love her and only wanted sex!"

"I never said that."

Cuddy paused. "Are you saying you do love her?"

"No, I never said that I only wanted sex. There were the meals too."

Cuddy was about to storm out when she noticed something in his eyes as he snarked. Something she hadn't seen in him since…Stacy. Could it be? She knew he wouldn't admit it to her.

"Well, I am going to help her get her life together. We talked a lot last night. She can do a lot better than a bastard like you."

She was almost at the office door when she heard him say softly, almost wistfully, "I know."

Three weeks later….

Wilson sat beside House as they watched the hockey game. House was on his third scotch in less than an hour. At this rate, he would be wasted in no time.

"Don't you think you ought to take it easy on the booze?" He asked him.

"Don't you think you ought to mind your own business? Oh, that's right; you don't know how to do that."

"Why don't you just admit that you miss her?"

"Why don't you just admit that you're gay?"

"I'm not gay."

"And I don't miss her."

"Of course you do! You're drinking way too much, you're popping too many pills and you're more miserable than ever!"

"You say you're not gay, but you're watching my every movement."

Wilson let out a breath. "House, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you're in love with her."

"She's not here, is she?"

"Only because you sent her away. Just like before."

House glared at him. "It's not at all like before. There was no future between Amy and me."

"But if you love her…"

"It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that love doesn't matter?"

"How can you say that it does? You've been divorced three times!"

"Yes, I have. Ask me if I regret any of them."

House just stared at him for a moment. "Are you saying you don't?"

Wilson smiled slightly, then shook his head and said, "No, I don't. When I married my first wife, I was so crazy in love, I couldn't believe it. And it was the same with Bonnie and Julie. I loved each one of those women."

"But it ended in flames each time!"

"I know. But if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would."

House just smirked at him. "Well, I've never been a 'better to have loved and lost' kind of guy myself."

"Really? So are you telling me that you wish you had never met Stacy? That you had never loved her? Because I know you did love her."

House picked up his cane. "Sometimes I do."

"Will you let that go? Besides the leg, do you really wish you never loved her? Even knowing how it ended, do you wish she had never been a part of your life?"

House was quiet for several moments, his thoughts going back to the woman he had loved and lived with for five years. Finally, he said, "No."

"And do you wish you had never met Amy?"

"I never said that. The sex was great."

Wilson just stared at him.

"Yeah, alright, she was great too. But there was no future for us."

"Why not?"

"She's twenty-five years younger than I am! I was already in medical school when she was born."

"Age is just a number."

"And who wants to spend their life with a handicapped person?"

Wilson was incredulous. "That's bullshit! I know that her deafness doesn't bother you!" Then he looked at House's face and the cane and realized the truth. "Oh, you're not talking about her handicap."

House just picked up his drink and took a sip.

"House, she doesn't care. She loves you, for some strange reason, just the way you are."

"She doesn't care now, but how long does a woman in her twenties stay with an old cripple?"

Wilson got up and walked to the window, then turned back to his friend. "Life is short. For some, shorter than others. Love is a gift. Even if you only have that gift for a short time, to refuse it, is just stupid. Take it, embrace it. And if, not when, but if, it goes, then rejoice in the fact you had it, even for only a little while."

"Easy for you."

"It's not easy for anyone. I know it's especially not easy for you. But is it really easier being alone and miserable?"

"Yes."

One month later…

Cuddy walked into her house to the smell of something wonderful cooking. There was a definite advantage to having Amy live with her – mainly the food. And because Cuddy was a vegetarian, Amy found new recipes to prepare with no meat.

Amy smiled at her when she entered the kitchen. Cuddy was glad that the girl was not spending all of her time mooning over House. She knew that her nights were hard and she sometimes heard her whimpers. How often Amy cried herself to sleep, Cuddy didn't know, but it was enough. Yet, during the day, she was cheerful. That's the key, she thought, learning how to function without the guy until you can live without him.

Cuddy motioned for her to come over to the table and opened a large envelope that was in her hand.

Looking into Amy's face so that she would understand, she told her, "Remember that college we talked about? The one with a special course of study within the university for deaf students?"

Amy nodded.

"Well, I got information from them. Here, take a look."

Amy looked at the brochures that were spread out in front of her. It showed a lovely campus. The name on the top said Seattle University of Technology. Next to that one was another brochure labeled National Educational Institute for the Deaf at Seattle University. She opened them and briefly looked through, then shook her head.

She pulled out her notebook and wrote **I can't afford to go to college**.

"It's a government sponsored program and there's financial aid. I already checked it out. You are virtually homeless. You don't even have a bank account. You qualify. Uncle Sam will pay your tuition and financial aid will take care of your room and board."

**I'm too old.**

"Of course you aren't. True, you're a few years older than the other students, but it's really not a problem."

**There is a problem.**

"What?"

Amy hesitated before finally writing, **I'm pregnant.**

"Oh, Amy! Are you sure?"

She nodded, then wrote, **home pregnancy test.**

"Well, that's not totally conclusive; you should come in tomorrow to get tested."

She shook her head vehemently.

"Don't worry; I'll take care of you. You won't have to see House."

Amy's eyes started to glisten when Cuddy spoke his name.

"How far along do you think?"

**2 ½ months.**

"You're sure? You know when it happened?"

Amy nodded. **The night of the fundraiser.**

"Oh, I see. Well, you certainly looked beautiful that night."

**We didn't use anything.**

"Okay. Well, come in anyway and I'll make sure everything's okay. Have you thought about what you want to do?"

She looked perplexed for a moment, then understanding of the question. She wrote, **No abortion.**

"Okay. But are you going to keep it or give it up?"

**Keep it.**

"You're sure? Have you thought it out?"

**I grew up in foster care. I was there because my parents died. Saw lots of kids there because no one wanted them. Can't do that.**

Cuddy smiled. She could understand why the girl would feel like that. She thought about it for a few minutes, and then something occurred to her. She did a few calculations in her head.

"You know, if you're ten weeks now, you're probably due around mid-June. The semester ends at the beginning of May."

Amy looked at her, confused.

"Well, why can't you do the January semester, have the baby, relax all summer, then go back to school in September? "

**What about the baby?**

"There's a day care center on campus. Amy, there's no reason why you can't do this. And don't you want to build a better life for your child? How well will you be able to support it cleaning houses for the rest of your life?"

Amy considered what she said, and then wrote, **Let me think about it.**

"Good girl."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Two months later…

House was about to leave Cuddy's office after getting permission to do a test for his patient when she stopped him. He turned around, but she hesitated. She wasn't sure she should do this, but something told her it was the right thing.

"House, you should know that Amy is leaving tomorrow."

He looked confused. "Leaving your house?"

"Yes, leaving my house, leaving Princeton."

"Where is she …" he started to ask, and then stopped himself. "That's none of my business."

"Well, I just thought, if you wanted to say goodbye to her, this would be your last chance. She won't be back."

His curiosity got the better of his common sense. "Where's she going?"

"To a college in Seattle that specializes in deaf students."

"Seattle?" He realized that she would be three thousand miles away from him. "Why all the way out there?"

"They have a wonderful program for deaf students and it's federally funded, so she doesn't have to pay for tuition."

"Oh, that makes sense. Well, tell her good luck."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell her yourself?"

"No." he said as he left the office.

He had just poured a glass of scotch when he heard the knock on his door. He limped over to it and was surprised when he opened it to see Amy standing there. He stared at her for a few seconds, before stepping aside and letting her in, closing the door behind her.

She looked nervous. She held out her notebook where she had written, **Lisa told you that I'm leaving. I wanted to say goodbye and to thank you for everything that you did for me.**

"You don't have to thank me."

She nodded, and then stared at the floor for a time, before turning the page in her book and writing. **Lisa said I should tell you. I wasn't sure and I don't want anything from you, but she's right and you deserve to know.**

He was watching as she wrote and asked, "Deserve to know what?"

She took a deep breath, and then finally wrote **I'm pregnant**.

He looked at her with a stunned expression. When he finally found the strength to speak, he said, "You can't be. I always used rubbers."

She wrote, **after the fundraiser.**

He had a sudden image of them up against the door, of the hot, wild abandon. He couldn't resist her, he hadn't even thought about a condom that night. Oh, god.

"But Cuddy said that you're leaving, going to college."

She nodded.

"Even though you're…" She nodded again. "Okay," he said.

She watched him as he tried to process all of it. She put her hand on his arm. He raised his head to look at her. She motioned to the door. He nodded as she picked up her coat and walked to the door. When she opened it, he realized that this might be the last time he ever saw her. He moved as fast as his bad leg would take him and got to the door before she went through it. He grabbed her arm.

When she looked up at him, he said, "Stay here tonight."

She looked at him with confusion.

"No, you really need to go that school. It'll be good for you. But stay here tonight. This might be the last time we see each other, ever."

She looked into his blue, blue eyes and nodded. He pushed the door closed and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed, and then waited. When someone answered, he said, "Cuddy, Amy is spending the night here."

He listened, and then said. "I'll bring her back in the morning. Yes, in plenty of time for her plane." He closed the phone, put it in his pocket, and then pulled her into his arms.

Somehow they made it to the bedroom. They made short work of their clothes and tumbled onto the bed.

He reached over and turned on the lamp, so that she could see what he was saying. He reached out his hand and put it on her cheek, lightly caressing it. She covered his hand with her own and looked into his eyes. Then she moved her hand down his arm while his fingers outlined her lips. She parted them and he put a finger inside. Her tongue touched the tip of it. His other hand moved down to caress her nipple. Then he took his finger from her mouth and moved his hand behind her neck to pull her to him as his mouth met hers. Their tongues met and mingled while his hands moved over her body. Hers did the same with his.

He gently pushed her down on the bed while his hands continued their exploration. As he moved over her stomach, he caressed the slight rounding that was his child. He stopped, and then bent down to place a kiss there. Her hand was in his hair as he lifted his head to look at her. He moved on top of her and resumed his exploration of her mouth while his hand moved lower down her body. She was wet and ready for him, so he moved into position. He plunged inside her and began moving. She met his motions with her own and they rocked together like that for some time.

They both realized that this would be the last time that they made love, possibly forever, so they wanted to prolong the event. He held back the finale and pulled out. She looked at him in confusion, and then he told her, "Turn over."

She complied, and then pulled herself up on her knees. He knelt behind her and once more plunged inside. They began moving together once more and kept the pace up until neither could take it anymore. She lost it first and he followed right behind. She collapsed, spent, onto the bed and he lay on top of her, still inside her.

As they lay together afterward, she looked at him with an odd expression. When he saw it, he shook his head.

"No, Amy. You have to go tomorrow. This is important. You'll get an education, meet people your own age, get a life."

She motioned with her body.

"This isn't a life – living with an old man like me. There are young men out there for you to fall in love with."

She banged her hand down on the mattress.

"You think you love me because you've never met any other guys. You need to expose yourself to all that you can."

She just stared at him.

"But, I will send you money."

She shook her head.

"It's my kid you're having. I have a responsibility to support it. Don't fight me on this. Think of the baby and everything it's going to need."

She considered his words for a few moments, and then reluctantly nodded.

"Good, once you get settled, let me know your address so that I can send you money. You should probably get an apartment; they won't let you keep a baby in a dorm room. I'll pay the rent. I'll pay your medical bills too. Once the baby's born, I can add it to my health insurance. You'll need to find an OB – doctor as soon as you settle in. Have the doctor contact me; I'll want copies of all of your reports. I want to make sure everything's alright. Got all that?"

She nodded, watching him in amazement.

"Good. Now get some sleep, you've got a lot to do tomorrow."

She snuggled up next to him, as he turned out the light. With his face buried in her hair so that she couldn't see his lips, he said, "I love you, Amy."

He pulled up in front of Cuddy's house. She looked at him, longing in her eyes.

"This is for the best. You'll get a degree and you can make something of your life. You NEED to do this."

She nodded, then leaned in to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. When she finally let go, she stared into his eyes for a long time before getting out of the car and running up to the front door. She turned to wave to him, but he had already pulled away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, I fixed this chapter, so hopefully it makes more sense now. Thanks again for your patience.**

Chapter 13

Dear Greg,

I promised you that I would write to you when I got settled, so that is what I am doing. I'm sorry it took me a month to send this. I hope you weren't worried about me. OR maybe, I hope that you were!

The school is very nice and so are the people. It's amazing to have so many other people that I can communicate with. Everyone understands sign language and I can have full conversations. Unlike you, most people can't just read the expressions on my face. You are just unique.

I found an apartment right off campus. It's so close that I can walk to school. It has two bedrooms, so I think for the time being at least, I am going to get a roommate. That will make it easier to get around the campus and the city. Also, I am used to living with someone. I have advertised at school and I have a few girls that I am going to meet with. I need to find someone who won't mind living with a baby.

I went to an obstetrician. Her name is Dr. Martha Stevens. She is very nice. She was recommended by the school and she also knows sign language. I explained that you would be paying my medical bills. She gave me her card, which I have enclosed and asked that you contact her office to make the arrangements. Is that alright with you?

She examined me and said that everything is progressing normally and that I should not have any problems. That was good news to me. I need to visit her once a month until the last trimester. So there is nothing you need to worry about. I also gave her authorization to send copies of the baby's medical reports to you.

Greg, I miss you very much. Even more than when I was staying with Dr. Cuddy. At least then I knew you were only a few miles away. Now you're 3000 miles. I'm making friends, but they are not you. I still love you and I always will.

All my love,

Amy

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Dear Amy,

You'll be receiving a lap top computer in the mail next week. I don't like snail mail; the US Post Office is way too slow. And don't fight me on this. We can email to communicate. I want to make sure you're doing okay.

I called your doctor. She seems okay. I'll reserve final judgment until she does something idiotic. All your medical bills will come to me and the baby will go on my health insurance once it's born.

Glad you're settling in there and that you're making friends. That's what you're supposed to do. A roommate is a good idea; just make sure the girl is not a moron.

Greg House

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To: houseg From: amym

Thank you for the computer. You didn't have to do this, but I love it! I promise to send regular updates so that you know how the baby and I are doing.

I found a roommate. Her name is Helen. She is not deaf, but she knows sign language. She's studying to be a teacher for the deaf. I'm considering that myself.

My friend told me he could set up Instant Messenger so that we could have conversations. Would you like to do that? He said I can send you the link to it if we want to communicate. I'd like to be able to talk to you.

Let me know.

Love,

Amy

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To: amym From: houseg

You're welcome. Glad you found a roommate that you like. I don't know if the instant messenger is a good idea.

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To: houseg From: amym

I think it's a wonderful idea. I know that you don't love me, but we are friends, aren't we? And we are having a child together. There's a lot we need to discuss. Please?

Amy

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To: amym From: houseg

Send me the link.

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**Welcome to Live Messenger!**

**AMY**: Greg? Are you there?

**HOUSE**: Yes.

**AMY**: You got it set up? Any problems?

**HOUSE**: I'm not an idiot.

**AMY**: No, I know. I'm just happy that we can chat.

**HOUSE**: Sure.

**AMY**: How have you been?

**HOUSE**: I'm good.

**AMY**: Everything okay at the hospital

**HOUSE**: Sure.

**AMY**: If you don't want to talk now, we can do it another time.

**HOUSE**: Who said I didn't want to talk?

**AMY**: Your one-word answers.

**HOUSE**: Okay, how are you feeling?

**AMY**: Pretty good actually.

**HOUSE**: Morning sickness over?

**AMY**: Yes. I'm almost at six months. No more morning sickness.

**HOUSE**: Doctor sent me copies of the ultrasound. Baby looks okay.

**AMY**: Yes.

**HOUSE**: My phone is ringing, gotta go.

**AMY**: Okay, talk to you next week?

**HOUSE**: Sure.

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_One week later…._

**HOUSE**: Amy? Sign says you're on, are you there?

**AMY**: Yes.

**HOUSE**: How are you?

**AMY**: Okay, I guess.

**HOUSE**: What's wrong?

**AMY**: Nothing, really.

**HOUSE**: WHAT'S WRONG???

**AMY**: I'm scared, Greg.

**HOUSE**: Scared? Someone bothering you?

**AMY**: No.

**HOUSE**: Then why are you scared?

**AMY**: How am I going to do this, Greg?

**HOUSE**: What?

**AMY**: Have a baby. Raise a child.

**HOUSE**: You'll do fine.

**AMY**: I won't even be able to hear it when it's crying.

**HOUSE**: There are devices. I'll find out.

**AMY**: Greg, what if the baby can't hear?

**HOUSE**: Why do you think that?

**AMY**: I was born deaf. What if the baby inherits it?

**HOUSE**: You're parents weren't deaf.

**AMY**: I know.

**HOUSE**: So it's probably not genetic. Your doctor can do some tests.

**AMY**: But if it is. It's not fair to do that to an innocent child.

**HOUSE**: You did okay. Our kid will too. Don't worry.

**AMY**: Thanks, Greg.

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_One week later…_

**AMY**: Greg? Hello?

**HOUSE**: How are you feeling tonight?

**AMY**: I'm great! How are you?

**HOUSE**: Okay. Why are you great?

**AMY**: Weather is beautiful and…I felt the baby move!

**HOUSE**: Really?

**AMY**: It was wonderful!

**HOUSE**: You're not worried tonight?

**AMY**: Nothing to worry about. I'm going to have a beautiful, wonderful baby.

**HOUSE**: What about the deaf thing?

**AMY**: Not worried about it. Life is terrific!

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_One week later…_

**HOUSE**: Amy, are you there?

**AMY**: Yes.

**HOUSE**: Something wrong?

**AMY**: No, not really.

**HOUSE**: What is it?

**AMY**: Just blue.

**HOUSE**: Why?

**AMY**: I don't know! I've been crying for no reason for the past few days.

**HOUSE**: But you were really happy last week.

**AMY**: I KNOW!

**HOUSE**: Okay, these pregnancy mood swings are driving me crazy. Can't you just pick a mood and stay there?

**AMY**: No.

**HOUSE**: Okay.

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_Two weeks later…_

**AMY**: Greg, sorry we couldn't chat last week. How was your patient?

**HOUSE**: He survived.

**AMY**: Oh, that's good.

**HOUSE**: Feeling okay tonight?

**AMY**: Yes, I'm just busy.

**HOUSE**: Doing what?

**AMY**: Do you like balloons?

**HOUSE**: Why do you want to know?

**AMY**: Or how about teddy bears?

**HOUSE**: What about them?

**AMY**: I could do it in teddy bears.

**HOUSE**: Do what in teddy bears?

**AMY**: There's always animals, you know, a jungle?

**HOUSE**: What the hell are you talking about?

**AMY**: The baby's room. I'm trying to decide how to decorate it.

**HOUSE**: Oh. Well, that makes sense then. Wait a minute, balloons?

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_One week later…_

**AMY**: You're late!

**HOUSE**: Sorry, had to work late, I just got home.

**AMY**: You know, if you don't want to talk to me, just tell me.

**HOUSE**: I told you, I just got home. What's wrong tonight?

**AMY**: I mean I can understand why you wouldn't want to talk to me.

**HOUSE**: Amy, what's wrong?

**AMY**: I'm fat!

**HOUSE**: You're pregnant! You're supposed to be fat.

**AMY**: I'm ugly.

**HOUSE**: You're not.

**AMY**: How do you know? You can't see me.

**HOUSE**: You could never be less than beautiful.

**AMY**: Oh, GREG!

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_One week later…_

**AMY**: Greg, it was so wonderful!

**HOUSE**: What was?

**AMY**: They gave me a baby shower! I got everything – a crib, highchair, stroller, all these adorable little onesies, oh, just everything!

**HOUSE**: That's great.

**AMY**: And an entire monitoring system especially designed for deaf parents, using lights and vibrations instead of sound.

**HOUSE**: Well, that's good.

**AMY**: The thing is, that system is expensive. And there was no name on the gift. And whoever bought it is paying for the installation as well.

**HOUSE**: Pretty cool.

**AMY**: Greg?

**HOUSE**: What?

**AMY**: Thank you.

**HOUSE**: For what?

**AMY**: For the monitoring system.

**HOUSE**: What makes you think I had anything to do with it?

**AMY**: You knew I was worried about that. No one here has that kind of money.

**HOUSE**: That doesn't mean anything.

**AMY**: Greg…thank you.

**HOUSE**: You're welcome.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry folks - I can't post this with the email format as I did on Fox's board. I've done it the best way I could to keep the sense of the emails. I'm going to go back and check the other chapter with the emails and revise/replace if I need to. Just so you know, it's amym at nightwing and houseg at ppth. Thanks for your patience!**

Chapter 14

When the phone rang in his office, House was going to ignore it, especially since the area code was unfamiliar. But something told him he should answer it.

"House." He said into the phone.

"Dr. House, this is Dr. Stevens in Seattle. I wanted to let you know that you are a father. Amy gave birth to a boy, eight pounds, 4 ounces."

House stilled. He had a son. "Is Amy okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. There were no problems at all. She'll be going home tomorrow. She asked me to call you."

"Thank you."

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To: houseg at From: amym at

Thank you for the amazing bouquet of flowers and the enormous teddy bear that you sent to the hospital. You are really very sweet (although I know you hate to admit it!)

I've attached a picture of the baby. It's only a newborn pic so don't expect much – he's still pretty red and wrinkled, but I think he's beautiful.

I'd like to name him Gregory Thomas and call him G.T. Is that alright with you?

Love,

Amy

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To: amym - From: houseg

Thanks for the picture. You're right; he doesn't look like much yet. Luckily, I know that babies get better as they get older – at least in looks.

The name is fine. It's your choice anyway. I'll be on IM Tuesday, as usual.

Greg

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_One week later…_

**AMY**: Greg? Are you there?

**HOUSE**: I'm here. How are you feeling?

**AMY**: Good. A little tired, not used to taking care of a baby, but wonderful too. He's amazing. And I'm so happy! I clapped my hands while he was sleeping, and he started to cry.

**HOUSE**: I don't think you're supposed to do that.

**AMY**: Don't you understand? He can hear!

**HOUSE**: Yeah, I got that. I told you he'd be okay.

**AMY**: It's just such a relief.

**HOUSE**: I know.

**AMY**: I plan on taking a picture of him once a week and sending it to you so that you can see how he's growing.

_(pause)_

**HOUSE**: That'll be good.

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Every Tuesday night they communicated with each other through Instant Messenger. Sometimes he had a patient and had to work late and missed their time. Sometimes she had class or study groups. One night the baby was sick with an ear infection and wanted to be held constantly. She emailed House two days later.

To: houseg From: amym

Sorry about last night. G.T. was sick. I was really scared. He's okay now. I'll be on next week.

Amy

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To: amym From: houseg

Why was he sick? What was wrong? Why were you scared?

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To: houseg From: amym

I was scared because it was an ear infection. I've read that children can lose their hearing from ear infections. Maybe that's what happened to me? I don't know. I just don't want anything to happen to him. But he's over it, so it's okay.

Amy

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To: amym From: houseg

You were born deaf. Children only lose their hearing from ear infections if they're chronic – happening a lot and not treated promptly. It won't happen after one. But have the doctor send me his records; I'll take a look to reassure you.

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To: houseg From: amym

I know that now. The doctor told me. I'm okay and so is he. You don't need to worry about it.

Amy

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To: amym From: houseg

Send them anyway.

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Amy sent him digital pictures weekly of G.T. so that he could see how the child was growing. She didn't send pictures of herself, just the baby. House made a file of the pictures that he kept on his computer at work and could go into whenever he wanted. He printed out his favorite pictures, but only displayed them at home – in his bedroom where no one else would see them.

Wilson and Cuddy were the only ones who knew about his son. Amy sent pictures to Cuddy as well and House shared his with Wilson. Both of them knew that the memory of Amy and the longing to actually see his son was a dull ache for House. But since he refused to talk about it, they let it go and just tried to support him.

During their IM chats, House and Amy would discuss lots of things. Sometimes the chats were long, sometimes short. But either way, they became the highlight of his week. When she was with him, he had cared about her and had desired her. He had liked her enthusiasm and love of life. But through these chats, he really got to know her, what was in her mind, how she felt about life. He was falling more in love with her with each chat. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Time passed. House lost his team and gained a new one to torture. Which, of course, he did, with relish. Cuddy still tried to get him to do his clinic hours; he tried to avoid them at all costs. Wilson spent time with him, watching trash TV, going to sporting events or bars. Sometimes House picked up a woman for a one-night stand, sometimes he relied on professionals. Life went on as it always had. Just…different.

Time passed for Amy as well. She adjusted to life as a single mom. G.T. was enrolled in the college day care while Amy was in class. Since House was paying the rent on her apartment, she was able to offer her roommate free rent in exchange for some babysitting duties, allowing Amy to get out with her friends. And she had made lots of them.

She decided that she wanted to be a teacher, specializing in very young deaf children. She took early education courses and other ones designed to teach her what she would need to know to teach deaf children how to function in a hearing world. She liked her courses and was happy with her choice. Her life was good…mostly.

They still chatted every Tuesday evening. House found himself looking forward to it more and more.

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**AMY**: Sorry I missed last week, went out with friends.

**HOUSE**: Friends?

**AMY**: Yes, someone had tickets to a new art exhibit.

**HOUSE**: Amy, are you dating anyone?

_(Pause)_

**AMY**: I've dated some guys. No one special.

**HOUSE**: It's okay, I told you to date. You need to do that.

**AMY**: And I am. There's just no one special right now.

**HOUSE**: Okay.

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Was it selfish of him to be happy that she wasn't serious about any of the guys she dated? He assumed, though, that she was having sex with them. The picture in his mind of her naked with some guy almost drove him crazy. But this was what he wanted for her, what he knew was best for her.

Before he knew it, she had been gone for over two years. Their son turned two and he kept up with him through Amy's pictures and reports. He was very bright. He had learned sign language at the same time he learned verbal speech, so he could talk to his mother. Amy worked part time at a nursery school for deaf children and she often brought G.T. with her. Since he could communicate with them, he easily made friends with them and had as many deaf friends as non-deaf.

One day, not too long after G.T. turned two, Cuddy wandered into his office. House glanced at her, and then turned away.

"I already did my all my clinic hours for this week. And I don't have a patient right now."

"I know." Cuddy said.

"Then why are you here?"

"I just wondered if you've talked with Amy lately."

He turned around. "I chat with her every week. Why?"

"What do you talk about?"

"Usually about you. She's got your weight at 200 pounds, but I said no way were you more than 190, 195 tops.

She ignored him. "So I guess she's told you about Brian?"

His blood ran cold, but he hid it from her. "Who…sure."

Cuddy smiled. "Sounds like a great guy, huh?"

"Yep."

"And it seems like she's serious about this one. Really good for her. Well, I need to get back to work." With those words, she left.

He sat watching the door for some time after she left, then turned back to the window, pondering.

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**AMY**: Hi Greg, how are you tonight.

**HOUSE**: Good. How are you?

**AMY**: Great. The funniest thing happened today.

**HOUSE**: That's good. Who's Brian?

_(pause)_

**AMY**: How do you know about Brian?

**HOUSE**: Just tell me who he is.

**AMY**: Lisa must have told you.

**HOUSE**: Amy, who is he?

**AMY**: He's a guy I've been seeing. He's very nice – a teacher at the college. He taught me in freshman year, we met again about six months ago and we've been dating.

_(pause)_

**HOUSE**: Why haven't you told me about him?

**AMY**: I don't know.

**HOUSE**: This isn't the first guy that you've dated.

**AMY**: I know.

**HOUSE**: But this one is different, right?

**AMY**: Maybe,

**HOUSE**: Amy, that's the reason you went there – to meet people and build a life. If you like this guy, that's great.

**AMY**: I liked you, but it didn't do me any good.

**HOUSE**: That's different. I'm not for you.

**AMY**: You don't know that.

**HOUSE**: I do know that. How old is this guy?

**AMY**: 32

**HOUSE**: Right. That's what you need, someone young. How is he with G.T.?

**AMY**: Great. Brian is terrific with him and G.T. adores him.

**HOUSE**: Then, that's everything you need.

**AMY**: Yeah.

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_Two months later…_

**AMY**: Hi, Greg.

**HOUSE**: Hi.

**AMY**: Are you having a good day?

**HOUSE**: Why?

**AMY**: Just wondering.

**HOUSE**: What's the matter?

**AMY**: Nothing, I just wanted to tell you something.

**HOUSE**: What?

_(pause)_

**AMY**: Brian asked me to marry him.

_(pause)_

**HOUSE**: That's good.

**AMY**: Is it?

**HOUSE**: Isn't it?

**AMY**: Yeah, I guess so. He's really sweet and he's so great with G.T. We have so much fun together.

**HOUSE**: Then that's settled. When's the wedding?

**AMY**: July 10.

**HOUSE**: You set a date.

**AMY**: Yeah, he wanted to, I figured why not?

**HOUSE:** Which means you accepted.

**AMY:** Yes, I did.

_(pause)_

**HOUSE**: Well, congratulations. You realize we're going to have to stop this.

**AMY**: Why?

**HOUSE**: I don't think your new husband is going to appreciate you having these conversations with another man.

**AMY**: He knows about you. He knows you're G.T.'s father.

**HOUSE**: You can send me emails with pictures of G.T, that's fine, but I wouldn't want my wife talking like this to another man.

**AMY**: You don't have a wife.

**HOUSE**: Still.

**AMY**: I guess you're right.

**HOUSE**: We may as well stop now. Since you're engaged.

**AMY**: Yeah, we may as well.

**HOUSE**: Goodbye, Amy.

**AMY**: Goodbye, Greg.


	16. Chapter 16

**This is the last chapter folks. Thanks to everyone who has read this. I will be posting more stories as they get written, so if you want to be notified when I do, set up an author alert. Thanks again!**

Chapter 16

House was just picking at his lunch. Wilson was worried. Usually his friend ate everything in front of him and every one else's food as well.

"Something wrong with the reuben?"

"No, it's fine."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are we going to play twenty questions all day until I finally get it out of you, or are you just going to give in and tell me what's wrong?"

House smiled briefly. "Amy's getting married today."

Wilson sat back. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess we knew that would happen eventually. Who's the guy?"

"A teacher at the college. He's supposed to be really nice, loves the baby, loves her. His name is Brian. He's thirty-two."

Wilson looked at his friend. "You know, you could…"

"No, I couldn't. This is why I wanted her to go. She belongs with Brian, he's perfect for her. He'll be a good husband to her and a good father to …" his voice cracked and fell almost to whisper, "…my son."

"How about if I come over tonight? I'll bring beer, we'll watch something stupid and trash women and their fickle hearts?" Wilson suggested.

House smiled. "No, that's okay. I'm fine. Really. I was never prepared to marry her and be all those things that she needs. So this is really for the best."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

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As he rode home on his motorcycle, it was raining slightly. He thought of his empty apartment, a place that would never be filled with anything more than the sound of his cane thumping along the floor and his piano playing a melancholy, solitary tune. He wondered why he was bothering to go home. There was no point to this life. He could just keep riding on the rain soaked streets. He could ride until he couldn't ride anymore and then he could just stop. The prospect was almost welcoming.

Then he saw Amy and G.T. in his mind's eye. If he died on her wedding day, she would blame herself. She would never be able to celebrate an anniversary without remembering. He couldn't do that to her. Ending his life would have to wait for a more convenient time. Ironic.

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As House stood outside his apartment door, he hesitated. Did he hear something inside? He supposed he could have left the TV on that morning, but he didn't think so. He inserted the key and slowly opened the door.

The television was indeed playing; however, he didn't believe he was the one who turned it on. On his sofa, sat a small boy with brown hair and blue eyes. Although House had never met the child, he recognized him immediately. Probably because pictures of this child were all over his computer.

He limped to the sofa. "Hi, G.T."

Big blue eyes looked up at him. "Hi." He said, before returning his eyes to the cartoons he was watching.

House sat down beside him. "How did you get here?"

"Mommy brought me."

House swallowed. "Where's Mommy?"

"She's taking a nap. She said she had jet nag."

"Jet lag?"

"Yeah."

"Ah."

He sat there for a moment, staring at his son. Even though he had seen pictures and videos, there was something unbelievable about seeing the child in the flesh sitting beside him. Then he remembered. Amy was in his bedroom.

He stood up slowly and made his way to the other room. He opened the door and there she was, in his bed. He didn't want to wake her, so he closed the door again and returned to G.T. on the sofa.

"Are you hungry?" he asked the boy.

"Mommy made me a sandwich." Big blue eyes looked up again. "You're my daddy, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Mommy showed me your picture. And she told me we were coming to visit you."

They spent some time in silence, watching the cartoons.

"Hello, Greg."

House turned quickly at the sound of a voice. It was a little garbled, but he understood the words. Amy was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She looked absolutely beautiful. She had filled out some from when he had last seen her. She was still slim and toned, but her breasts were a little rounder and so were her hips. She had cut her hair; it fell just below her ears, all one length. Her eyes were still expressive, but there was knowledge and experience in them that he hadn't seen before.

"Hi, Amy. Was that you …talking?" he moved his hands as he spoke.

"Yes. I learned how at the school. Are you doing sign language?"

"Yeah, I learned how. I asked Jared Reynolds to teach me."

She smiled at him. He looked down at the floor, then back at her. God she was incredibly beautiful. He wanted to pull her into his arms. But before he did…

"Why are you here?" Because he wanted to be sure he was doing it right, he continued using the sign language as he spoke.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you were marrying Brian."

She stopped, walked to the window and looked out, then turned back to him. "I thought I was too. But at the last minute, I couldn't."

"Why not? I thought you said he was a terrific guy."

"He is."

"So?"

She turned away again and didn't say anything. He waited until she was ready to speak. After staring out the window for a little while, she turned back to him.

"Greg, four years ago when I was with you, I told you that I was in love with you."

"I remember."

"You told me that I was too young, that I didn't understand love, that I needed to meet people my own age, to experience life."

"Yes,'

"Well, I did what you told me to. I moved away. I had a child. I learned a profession, I learned to talk. I met lots of people, made lots of friends. I dated a wonderful man my own age, he asked me to marry him."

"That's good."

"But, Greg, do you know what the most important thing was that I learned?"

"No."

"I learned that no matter how many people I met, whatever I did, no one and nothing compares to you."

House just stared at her. He couldn't believe what she was saying to him.

"Amy…"

"No, don't start telling me how wrong I am. I'm not wrong. Four years ago you discounted my feelings and I let you. I was young and inexperienced. But I'm twenty-eight years old now. I've done everything you told me to. And guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm still in love with you. How can I marry someone else? Even if he's young and nice and everything wonderful? He's not you. I will always love you."

House couldn't speak. He stared at her then looked down. His throat closed and he couldn't get any words out.

"Greg, if you don't love me, I understand. You can't help it if you don't have feelings for me. But I had to make sure you knew."

He was still speechless. The words just wouldn't come.

"Please, Greg, just tell me something, tell me what you're feeling or not feeling, anything!"

When he was still silent, she turned away and said, "I see. You don't want me. G.T. and I will leave. I'm sorry to bother you."

But before she could move, she felt a hand on her arm. When she turned, she saw that House was beside her. There were tears running down his face.

"I love you." He said. "I've always loved you. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. And once I'd had you, I couldn't get enough of you. When you said you loved me four years ago, I wanted to tell you that I loved you too. But I couldn't. I wanted you to be happy and I didn't think you could be with me. I had to send you away. I regretted it every day since I did, but I still believe it was the right thing to do.

"But you're here and you still love me. I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to ever leave. Stay with me. Marry me. Let me be a father to my son and a husband and lover to you."

She put her arms around his neck and held on tight. He pulled her closer to him, then pulled back and looked into her expressive eyes. They were filled with love. He gently placed his lips on hers, and then increased the kiss until passion flowed between them. Finally, aware of the child sitting a few feet from them, they broke apart.

"Is that a yes to my proposal?"

"Yes!"

He smiled and kissed her again. He glanced at his son; he then looked back at her. Using his hands, he signed, _I can't wait to make love to you. It drove me crazy thinking of someone else with you._

She responded with signs, _I never slept with anyone else._

_But you were going to marry him._

_I know, but I was not comfortable with having sex with him. He respected that and never pressured me._

House smiled again. He was still the only man that had touched her. Something very old and primitive in him woke up. He wanted to roar. She was his, only his.

They got married two weeks later. They bought a house. Amy got a job in a school for deaf children. In a year, she gave birth to their daughter.

They laughed at the people who stared at them because of the age difference. Happiness had been an elusive thing to House, but he reveled in the beautiful woman that was his, that was the love of his life and his salvation. He remained the same wittily sarcastic man he had always been, but Amy spoiled her husband and adored him with her whole being. They just simply loved each other and their children. They built a life together. House's solitary song became a beautiful symphony.


End file.
